


To Lead You In the Summer

by Prodigal_Sunlight



Series: Two Gay Dads [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Gen, Patton and Deceit are on the PTA, Pre-relationship for Moceit, Virgil is babey, deceit is a lawyer so of course he turns everything into an argument, im trying to get all titles to be tangentially dad themed, passive-aggressive cakes, the focus is mostly on pat befriend virgil, when u choose an emo song for ur emo son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigal_Sunlight/pseuds/Prodigal_Sunlight
Summary: PTA Dads Moceit AUIt's so easy to forget about your mildly inconvenient PTA-based vendetta when you see a sad kid.





	To Lead You In the Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of previous child abuse and neglect, include beating and underfeeding. (Nothing graphic, but it is mentioned.) 
> 
> Title is from "The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance.

Confectionary warfare seemed the most ideal way to end this budding rivalry before it could ever spiral out of control. So Patton had spent his weekend baking cakes, with Logan providing tips on how to make the most psychologically appealing pastries while Roman spent hours making increasingly ostentatious flowers out of chocolate or fondant. Eventually their teamwork had given birth to a gorgeous three-layer French vanilla cake with cream cheese frosting, a creamy raspberry jam filling, and a ring of fondant flowers in a delicate gradient of colors.

They also had several spare cakes in the freezer that would probably be packed in every school lunch for at least the next month. Logan pretended to complain that Patton needed to teach them about proper healthy diets, but he’d eaten more than his fair share of sugary jelly-filled cakes.

“We did it!” Patton said brightly, setting the cake down on the PTA table. “Thank you so much for all your help kiddos, you’re the best buds I could’ve ever asked for!” He knelt down to wrap an arm around each of his boys and pull them in for a tight hug. 

Logan cleared his throat, not quite returning the hug, but leaning into it nonetheless. “Well, if you think our work is adequate, then I would like you to know your commendations are well conceived,” he said quietly.

Roman grinned, throwing his arms around both of them. “No prob padre! Any time you want us to help you eat—er, bake—cake, I’m in!”

Patton probably would’ve hugged them for a good long hour if he hadn’t noticed the clock on the wall. “Ah, jumping jiminy!” He said, standing up quickly. “We’ve got about ten minutes before first bell, we need to get you two outside. There should be enough time for you to play on the playground and get your wiggles out before class starts!” he said, herding them out of the PTA room.

“Wiggles?” Logan echoed, looking down at his decidedly non-wiggly hands with a frown.

Once they were out the back of the school building, Patton stopped to give them each a kiss on the forehead. “Okay, I’m gonna go tidy up the PTA room. After that they need me at work, but I’ll be here to pick you up and you can tell me all about your days,” he said warmly. “You both have your lunches?”

“Yep!” Roman said brightly, holding up his paper bag lunch, covered in swirling crayon drawings of dragons and castles.

Logan just shook his head, still muttering something to himself about wiggles and stimulation. Patton tapped him lightly on the forehead. “Hey, bud? I know you’re probly thinking about something really smart and sciency again, but I gotta make sure you aren’t gonna go hungry! You got your lunch?”

Logan snapped out of his reverie, blinking owlishly behind his over-sized glasses. “Oh! Um. Yeah. I mean, yes, I still have it,” he said, holding up his plastic Star Trek lunchbox.

Patton smiled, ruffling Logan’s hair lightly before standing up. “Alright kiddos, run off and play with your friends! I love you,” he said.

They both hugged his legs before running off, Logan shuffling over to talk to a few of the other quieter kids while Roman ran towards the largest cluster of children, waving his arms and shouting to get his attention. With a smile, Patton turned around to head back into the building.

He stopped.

Slumped up against the wall, a fair distance from the other kids, was a tiny boy. He looked like a first grader, but on closer examination, he was probably at least a few grades older, but so undernourished he was practically tiny. He almost disappeared into the oversized gray sweatshirt he was wearing, the hoodie pulled up over his head.

Patton approached cautiously, noticing with dismay the kid’s shoulders were shaking. Kneeling down confirmed his concerns—the boy was crying. “Heya kiddo,” he said gently, making sure to give the boy plenty of space. “What’sa matter?”

The little boy sniffled, wiping at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m fine,” the boy muttered softly.

Patton stopped to take a better look at the kid, thinking back to his therapy training. The tiny frame and the skittish expression in his eyes suggested neglect and abuse. But he was well dressed, and he didn’t look to be actively starving so much as recovering. His heart ached for the boy, and he wanted nothing more than to grab him up in a big tight hug. He didn’t let himself, though, afraid to scare the boy any more than he already had.

“Fine?” Patton echoed. “Well, that’s a funny name. I’m Mister Patton Sanders, but you can just call me Patton or Pat!” he said.

The boy bit his lip, as though it had crossed his mind to giggle, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “My name’s not Fine,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “You can call me Verge. That was R… what my brother calls me.”

Patton nodded encouragingly, glad at least that Verge wasn’t actively crying anymore. “Wow, what a cool name! It sounds like—“ Wait what was something cool? He tried to think of cool kid things. “Like, um, a superhero name!”

  
Verge shook his head, slumping deeper against the wall. “‘M not a hero. I can’t even do school right,” he said, hands shaking as though he were fighting himself not to tear up again. “It’s just… there’s so many people, and its so… _loud_.“

Ah, overstimulation. He wished he had some cheap stim toys from his office he could give Verge, but he hadn’t thought he’d need to bring any to drop off his sons. “Well, kiddo, there’s a lot of people who have a hard time with something like that,” he said slowly. “You’re not alone. Have you ever thought about asking your parents about it?”

Verge winced. “I don’t… I don’t live with my parents. Anymore, I mean. They were… kinda bad, so the government said I have to live with someone else.”

Just as he’d worried. He nodded patiently. “That must have been really scary. Is the person you live with now nice to you?”

After some hesitation, Verge nodded. “Yeah. He doesn’t hit me or forget to give me food. And he bought me toys and asked me what things I like to do. And his other kid is fun, sometimes,” he said, softly.

Patton listened, feeling a sweeping of relief that at least someone was looking after this poor kid now. “That’s good. Do you feel safe with him?”

Verge bit his lip. “I… I want to, and he’s nice, but it's scary. What if I make him mad and he hits me too? They said my parents were bad, but they wouldn’t do it if I had been better, right?” He said shakily.

“Kiddo, you’re getting inside your own head,” Patton said gently. “I’d like to try something. First, I want you to think of something that makes you happy. Not just some of the time, but something that makes you happy a lot.”

Verge paused, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly. “I have a pet tarantula. She’s very nice,” he whispered.

Patton forced himself not to make a face or shudder. God, of all the things that could bring this kid joy in life, it had to be a creepy-crawly spider. He was gonna be supportive, sure, but why couldn’t it be something cute like a teddybear? “That’s good,” he said, trying to ignore his own discomfort. “Now, think about how happy your tarantula makes you, okay? And I want you to take a deep breath in while you count to the number four.” He waited while Verge breathed in, then gently put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Now, try and hold it for seven seconds, if you can.” Verge nodded without speaking, cheeks puffed up with air. They didn’t quite make it, but Patton could see Verge was starting to turn a bit red. “This time, let it out again for eight seconds. Eight like the number of legs. Keep breathing and thinking about the thing that makes you happy.”

After about five deep breathes, a bit of color had come back to Verge’s face (though it did seem he was naturally rather pale) and he mostly stopped crying. He bit his lip, looking up at Patton apologetically. “I still feel scared,” he said softly.

“That’s okay,” Patton said, using his best reassuring therapist voice. “Feeling scared is normal. You just need to feel not-scared enough so you can do the scary things. Does that make sense?”

Verge nodded, a tiny smile crossing his face. “Not really, but, okay.”

Patton stood up, helping the boy to his feet, glad he’d managed to help. Maybe he’d asked his boys to keep an eye on this kid. Patton didn’t recognize him from all his volunteer work, so he might be new and in need of some good friends. He glanced up at the sound of a car pulling up, noticing with irritation it was a black mini cooper.

The door to the car swung open, and he straightened up to force his best polite smile. But Deceit didn’t even acknowledge him. He strode quickly across the playground blacktop, ignoring Patton entirely. He didn’t stop until he was in front of Verge, and crouched down. Patton opened his mouth to tell the other man the boy needed some space, but then—

“As much as I love hand-delivering your lunch box ever day, you really ought to be more aware of your things,” Deceit said, kneeling down as if he weren’t scuffing up his nice suit pants. He held out a Jack Skellington lunchbox, gently picking a stray thread from Verge’s hair.

His mis-matched eyes quickly zeroed-in on the boy’s damp cheeks, and he leaned in, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you alright, Virgil?” Patton’s heart froze at the voice—so impossibly soft and gentle, almost inaudible above the schoolyard racket. “Do you need to talk?”

Once his heart started beating again, Patton’s brain started working too. Of course, the only new family in the district was Deceit’s. And the man had mentioned a son named Virgil, so Verge was clearly a nickname, how had he not—

“I’m okay now,” Virgil said, pausing for a beat before glancing up at Patton, hugging the lunchbox to his chest. “I thought he was gonna kill me because stranger-danger, but he showed me how to breathe a good way.”

Deceit glanced up at Patton, squinting at him. It wasn’t clear if he was glaring or simply appraising Patton, but any hint of genuine emotion was quickly gone behind that snarky smile. “Oh and I do so hate that I didn’t get to play the hero,” he drawled. But his attention shifted back to Virgil, and his voice went so tenderly soft again. “I know you’re just _thrilled_ by the idea of seeing a therapist, but think about it, alright? We can find you someone who knows how to help.”

Virgil nodded, then after a nervous pause, he hugged Deceit. It was short, and over quickly, and Deceit himself looked surprised by the light contact. Hesitantly, he gave Virgil a hug too, this one even briefer than the first, and Virgil seemed relieved for it. “Okay Mister— I mean, okay, dad.”

Just then, the school bell rang. Deceit patted Virgil gently on the shoulder, fixed his hoodie strings, then stood up. “Alright, run along.” And Virgil did, hurrying towards the school door with a few quick glances back.

Once all the kids had filtering inside, Patton cleared his throat. “So, that’s one of your sons, huh?” He said, trying to pick his words. “He seems like a good kid. Nervous, though I can see why. And hey, y’know how you mentioned—“

“Come now Sanders,” Deceit said, back to his old irritable drawl, as cold and venomous as a snake. “Standing around outside talking about someone else’s child is a wonderful way to spend your time. Now how about we go in and I explain why advancing children regardless of grade would be beneficial.”

Patton sputtered, frustrated to be so suddenly faced with the last meeting’s big hot button topic. “Kids need to stay with their same age group!” He protested. “It’s hard t’make friends with kids older or younger than you, and it’d get really lonely for kids who aren’t just average! How are they going to develop their social skills if only the absolute middle of the pack get to fit in?”

Deceit smirked, tipping his hat. “My my, isn’t your Logan boy the one winning all those intelligence awards? Seems to me he’d enjoy being elevated to a higher level of schooling. Besides, the school system isn’t about friendship. It’s a ramshackle system that’s been hijacked by the wealthy to create masses of weak-willed workers for minimum-wage long hour jobs. If we want it to actually benefit the students, brilliance should be rewarded, and those who struggle should be allowed to take the time they need to learn.”

“But the social structure! The friendship!” Patton protested, following quickly as Deceit strode inside. “Kid’s need socialization!”

“Scoff. And the current system, rife with bullies and cliques that trains children to ostracize and disvalue their peers is _so_ much better.”

“Did you just say scoff?”

And so the majority of the PTA ended up being an argument between Patton and Deceit (and Linda insisting that grades should be pay-gated, but no one listened to her. God, Linda, take your shitty ideas and cardboard brownies somewhere else.) By the time it had wrapped up, all of the snacks were gone, and Patton was ready to work his ass off giving kids way better advice than Deceit could ever even imagine.

And if he noticed Deceit sneaking two slices of the jam cake into his brief case, well, he had the good graces not to say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I! Love! Babey! Virgil!
> 
> I wanted Patton and Deceit to start meeting each other's kids, as well as briefly establishing their slowly building dynamic of passive-aggressive pastry competitions and arguing over various moral topics about child raising! But I also Really Really wanted to write babie Virgie!
> 
> (muffled sounds of jelly cake in a briefcase)


End file.
